Agent of the End
by Prince Nobody
Summary: Glenn Sakuuras is a mission agent, handing out different tasks to ISK hungry Capsuleers capable of getting the job done, while at the same time living day to day dreaming of similar action. But one day, when he gets kidnapped by a murderous gang of pirates looking for blueprints that could change the fate of the cluster, Glenn soon finds himself on a deadly mission of his own.


_**EVE Online belongs to CCP Games, all characters in the story belong to me.**_

I was slurping down the last of my beer, wiping off any leaks with the edge of my steel grey sleeve. Resting on a surprisingly immaculate bar stool, I looked behind my back and stared up at the large, curved holoscreen, looming right above the restaurant's main entrance; a flat, pentagonal sculpture of cold metal, split down the middle by a thin, jagged crevice. It depicted a rigorous – or at least exaggerated – match of Mind Clash, the hidden stereo systems matching the intensity of the intangible monitor's vivid luminescence.

Tilting my head below the object of interest, I could easily see other citizens of the state talking above sleek tabletops or enclosed within aura-protected booths, though due to the aforementioned visual effects, virtually no one could see who or what was actually inside of them. The Visible table nearest to me held a small group of moderately-built men, around the same age as me.

Sitting to the left was a tall Deteis with short, black hair brushed backwards in a fairly rough manner, piercing topaz irises sat above a pointed, angular nose. Despite his relaxed position, his jaw remained taught in its place, like a soldier ready to be issued an order. He was dressed in a thick, indigo jacket of a nondescript fabric, over a thin black shirt bearing stylish Caldari patterns on its compressive surface, slightly tucked into a pair of dull cargo pants with camouflage decals. The pants, themselves, were also tucked into long pair of metallic army boots. He appeared to be decent man in both fashion and gesture, especially compared to the one sitting in the opposite direction.

The other man, an intimidating Civire, was almost a stark contrast to his friendly-looking partner. His head was shaven clean, with the exception of a faded brown streak down the middle. Below that lay bushy eyebrows over an asymmetrical face, on one end was a harsh scar, cutting right through its furry awning above, centered by an eye white as a bone, around it could be seen the deep texturing of past marring. The other side, however, bore no scars whatsoever and instead held an unmarked gray iris, just underneath it lay a small tattoo reminiscent of a barcode usually found on the box of one NOH's best-selling products. The rest of his body was no different than his head, he wore a stained, blue street shirt with a messy bronze coat covering it, the right sleeve ripped off, revealing a muscular arm covered in razor-sharp tattoos, leading all way down to a broad hand, the hand bore a strange, two-layered tritanium ring on its middle finger. Below his torso was a pair of tight army jeans with an explicit gun holster strapped to one side, interrupted at the end with bulky, steel-tipped captain boots. If I hadn't known him better, he would've seemed to me like some Navy dropout turned rebel punk in an instant.

They were laughing among each other to a joke I could not hear, and though I was ignorant of their risible topic, I couldn't help but grin at the fun my two friends were having. Hear I was, just about to raise my personal issues with the stolid female bartender, a cute little Achura chick of slim build and accentuated features, involving deadly missions and age-old trauma when from out of space these two thunderheads land in my drinking bar. Perhaps this was some strange twist of fate, or maybe they knew where I was hiding and wanted to have fun with me. Either way, I enjoyed watching my former crewmates relinquish themselves to a fervent delight.

Through the obtrusive crowd of other voices, I could still hear them speaking to one another, not minding at all how loud their vocals might've been to the other patrons. "Hear me out," said the Civire man, still chuckling to himself, "What happens when you cross an Amarrian monk with a Matari pirate?"

The other male slightly across from him smiled, "I don't know, what exactly?"

"You get a bloody, stinking mess, that's what you get!" said the Civire and he immediately burst into laughter, throwing himself backwards and hitting the tabletop.

The Deteis man, however, suddenly sighed in exhaustion. "You've already said that one, Bippoh." He said in unmasked boredom.

Bippoh composed himself at the statement, almost appearing bizarrely serious from an onlooker's perspective, not including mine of course. "Well sorry for it being so damn good," he said, "You really need to see on the humorous side of things, Marluu."

Marluu lifted his chin in defense, "I've been looking on the humorous side of the things for the last eight minutes!" he blurted out, exasperatedly, "I would really like to hear something new once in a while!"

Startled by his partner's sudden outburst, he nevertheless looked around for some excuse, when soon enough his eyesight hit me like a brick. "Oh, hey there, Glenn!" he shouted in my direction, "Didn't see you there, why don't you come sit over here with us?" Bippoh gestured to a flat seat beside him.

On any other day, I would've quietly refused his offer and let them return to their original conversation, but it had been a _long _day, I needed the time to cheer up beside my fellow compatriots.

So I got off my seat and walked over to their table, sitting down calmly and quickly in the spot Bippoh motioned for me to be in. "Hello boys!" I said happily, "What's going on your lives?"

Marluu crossed his arms and turned his head away from me like a spoiled child, meanwhile Bippoh leaned forward in his seat. "There's not really much going on with me," he said, "but if I were Marluu, I'd have enough to talk about."

I raised an eyebrow at his sentence. "Why?" I said, curiously, "I mean, what happened with Marluu?"

Bippoh turned his face toward Marluu for a minute, thinking carefully, as if trying to find the correct words to say to me, then he turned back my direction and started to say something, when all of a sudden Marluu interrupted him. "My bitch of a wife cheated on me," he said in a heartless tone, "That's what's up."

I tried to look shocked, I honestly did, but the way things had been going between them, It felt like no surprise that Iblie would up and leave him for somebody who could "satisfy her needs" more.

Marluu tilted his head a little toward us, though his eyes never left the ground, it seemed like he was holding back a waterfall. I really hated when this happened, after all, Marluu was usually the kind of man you hardly saw break down in public. What this girl had done to him, it was downright deplorable.

"Cheer up, man," I said kindly, "That girl doesn't deserve you anyway."

"I know," he sniffled, "But I honestly believed that she might've been the one for me."

"Yeah, we all get that from time to time," said Bippoh casually, "But you know what? That's just life giving you a little test, that's all."

"Well I hate this test!" blurted Marluu, "My life's already a miserable whore, why must it also test me by sending one down my fucking path!"

It was obvious our efforts weren't working on him. "Calm down," I spoke softly to him, putting both my hands up in surrender, "We're not trying to get on your bad side or anything."

"Well you are," he said in an upset tone, "Now leave me alone, both of you." At the end of his statement, Marluu quickly turned away from me and Bippoh and sulked quietly to himself.

Bippoh must've decided it was practically useless trying to cheer him up because he leaned back toward me and sat his arm on the table. "So," he said, trying to get back to a lighter topic, "how goes your life, Glenn?"

I also put an arm or two on the table in front of me, "I don't know, was pretty rough for me as well," I said, pondering a couple things from earlier, "You know, being a Mission Agent and all."

Bippoh looked at me stunned, leaning back a little at the information. "Wow," he said, "I had almost forgotten that you were an agent for those bloody Capsuleers." He looked downward at nothing, "I kind of feel bad for you as well."

"Don't be," I said, interrupting his solemn thoughts, "I mean, it's not like I'm doing the killing or anything like that, I'm just a normal citizen of that State, just catering to a strange crowd."

"Strange crowd?" said Bippoh, almost surprised by my mentioning of New Eden's Immortal race, "The Eggers of this cluster are no 'Strange Crowd', they're bloodthirsty scavengers searching for the right blend of lust, wealth and violence".

For a minute, I actually wanted to defend the Capsuleer kind, but I chose not to, if I had our conversation might've turned into a heated argument and the last thing I wanted this moment was a whole bunch of tension and anger. Suddenly, our conversation was interrupted by a loud pattering of feet on the metal flooring of the joint, the footsteps belonged to a plump Gallentean man with wiry, ginger hair and faded green eyes. He was wearing a stained, long sleeve T-shirt sponsoring the Quafe Corporation in big lettering, his black slacks hanging above large brown shoes trudging along a path towards the bartender. Judging from the way the man was moving down the aisle, he probably was half drunk.

The man finally reached destination, leaning on a wavering arm, perched carelessly on the counter in front of him, to keep his balance while he muttered a couple words under his bad breath. The girl on the other side kindly welcomed him to the establishment and asked if there was anything he wanted.

"No… no…" he said loudly, "I want none of yer flippin' shit!"

"Then, what would it be, sir?" she calmly said, trying hard to keep her anger under control.

"How 'bout a sweet, saucy kiss on these babies," he said pointing to his unmentionables, the man burst into a sick laughter, leaving the woman across from him utterly disgusted and outraged.

"Hey, buddy!" I called out from my table, "It's not cool to harass the lovely lady that's offering you something good."

"Calm down, Glenn," whispered Bippoh, "you know stuff like this happens all the time around here, also he's drunk."

"I don't care, Bip," I said back to his face, "that's just not cool."

The drunkard had already turned around and started trudging towards me, with smug little expression on his face, he stopped mere inches from my body. "And what exactly do you know about 'cool', pretty boy! He yammered, spraying a rainstorm of spittle and smelly fog at my face.

"I know a lot more than you, considering what an affront to society you're being right now," I said back, almost wanting to hold back those words.

"Oh really?" he said, his expression changed to an irritated frown, "Then is this a little better for ya?" And the last I could remember was seeing a hairy fist crashing into my face, knocking me to the cold, plated floor beneath us, I could still hear the muffled sounds of angry shouting and brawling, possibly my two friends, before my vision faded out and I fell unconscious.

When I finally came to, I was lying on some steel, rectangular bed, my body was held aloft by soft, white bed sheets and there were two people standing by my side. As my vision began to adjust, I could see that it was Marluu and Bippoh from earlier. I smiled and tried to sit up, only to fall back down as a painful migration flooded my head.

"Don't move," said Marluu, "You're still not healed yet from that incident."

"Yep," agreed Marluu, "I must say, that was a pretty asinine thing you did back there."

I tried to move my lips to speak, quickly finding the words to come out with. "He was bothering that female employee, he needed to be stopped," was what I managed to say.

"Yeah, that dick was doing something wrong," responded Bippoh, walking to the other side of my bed, "but, you do realize that the station security or even some other person could've solved the situation, right?"

I turned my head away from him, I knew that, but there was another reason, I was just too embarrassed to admit it, even to them.

After a while, Marluu gave out a sigh. "Well, what matters is that everything was handled afterwards," he finally said, "and now you can rest easy until that wound of yours gets better."

I closed my eyes, thankful and yet unthankful that those words came out of his mouth. That other reason still wrestled itself out of my noggin, but I held it back with what ample ferocity I had in me. I could only imagine what they would think of me then.

"Well, we're leaving now," said Bippoh, waving goodbye as he and Marluu headed for the door, "Take care, Glenn, Hope you get better soon!"

Once the door was closed, I fully relaxed myself. At that point I finally released that reason to myself, the same one I used every time something like this happened. The reason that I wanted some more excitement in my life, kind of like what Capsuleers experienced from time to time. I wanted to feel the exhilaration of doing something or changing things up, not just sitting around powerless and let whatever comes play out in front of me.

It was stupid, I knew, but it was at least something to think about during these slow days. Days where I pondered my life and the places it was headed, especially in a large, deep void like New Eden. These slow days, how I wished they could become something more.


End file.
